Secrets of the Moon
by thnkxfrthmmrs
Summary: 110 years ago the oracle announced the next great prophecy. 115 years ago a favored son of Poseidon was born. 100 years ago he disappeared. Now 100 years later a new generation is getting ready to go to war. But when a new camper shows up, everyone is left wondering, who is he? WHISPERING SECRETS 2.0
1. Loss

110 years the Oracles first spoke of the great prophecy. A warning. A promise. A call to arms.

115 years ago a baby boy with swirling ocean eyes was born to the god of the sea and a warm mortal woman.

100 years ago he disappeared at the cusp of the prophecy.

Now the newest generation of half-bloods are waging war against Kronos, lead by Ian Steele the prophesized son of Poseidon. The war effort is bleak and Camp Half Blood's numbers are decreasing by the day, but the gods' hope is restored when a new camper stumbles across the boarder.

The gods celebrate him and the ocean roars his name, but who is he?

The answer to the question Annabeth Chase and her friends are dying to know lies in deep pools of onyx and the whispers of the moon.

But the final battle is dawning, the tides are shifting and all fingers point to this new, mysterious camper. Perseus Jackson.

* * *

" _How was camp, sweetie?" Sally Jackson asked her 15 year old son, her blue eyes twinkling with pride and affection. She set a plate full of food on the table in front of him. Percy looked up at his mother, his skin tanned from a summer of sword fighting and monster slaying, his ocean eyes glowing and a mischievous smile quirked at his lips._

" _The absolute best, as always." There are secrets giggling between his words, like the Swallows that flitter between the peach trees out by Swallow's Creek. A new scar graces the bridge of his nose, thin and pale, but a very real testament of the life her son is forced to lead and all the horrors and pain that come with it—regardless of how fun summer at Camp Half Blood is._

 _Sally Jackson is no fool; she knows that they are preparing for war and that her baby is at the heart of it. She knows he may not make it passed his 16_ _th_ _birthday and when she's alone in her bed at night she weeps for her son's lost childhood and the future he may never get. But when she watches the way those expressive eyes mirror the ocean on a summers day and the whites of his teeth peek out from behind that shit-eating grin, she knows that this is how she'll always remember him:_

 _Tanned and excited and so so very strong and those spidery long lashes (with just a dash of trouble on the side)._

 _Sally spends the rest of the evening with her trouble-making son, listening to him regale the stories of Camp Half Blood, laughing at the funny bits, gasping at the near death experiences he faced, scolding him, but smiling anyways when he tells her of the trouble he and his best friends got up too._

" _Poor Chiron." She mumbles much to Percy's amusement. "The gods know how he puts up the lot of you."_

 _But, as much as Percy doesn't want to talk about it, as much as Sally doesn't want to talk about it, he tells her about the preparations they're making for war, about the training and the weapons and the battle strategy. It all sounds very political and there's a lack of warmth in the air, but they talk anyways because Sally Jackson is no fool and her baby is going off to war._

 _And there's nothing a mother can do, but smile and kiss him goodnight on the crown of his head._

 _There's nothing a mother can do but go to bed and pray and pray and pray, sticky tears staining her flesh like the blood that will stain her son's._

 _There's nothing Sally Jackson can do for her precious son but hope._

* * *

Some humans, and non humans, can sense a bad day, they wake up on the wrong side of the bed, they forget to grab their final project for class and the rest of the day is sour. For others, there's a shifting in the wind, a disturbance in the dreamscape of their minds, shadows grow longer, the air clings to their skin and they just know.

Something is coming.

But for most humans, most non humans, half humans, most days are just days, whether they start out right or not, it doesn't matter for it still doesn't prepare them for life's cruel joke.

But let's be honest, dear readers, no amount of sensing or knowing makes disaster any less painful.

* * *

 _Percy loves days like these, the warm summer air carries the taste of fall, but the heat of the earth stretches up from the dirt and the grass, seeping into his mortal flesh and the overripe blueberries stain his lips purple. He loves Camp Half Blood, truly, but there's something else to be said for the peaceful companionship he shares with his mother on this dying summer day. Something he wouldn't trade for all the summers at Camp._

 _They are deep in the New York woods, tucked away from the ever-growing concrete city Percy and his mother call home. The dappled sunlight dances between the leaves and leaves wispy kisses on their skin._

 _His mother loves to talk about his father, the sea god Poseidon, and the short time they spent together on the grey beaches of Montauk. Percy loves his dad, really, but he doesn't ask about their time together to learn about his father, he asks because his mother sheds years when she talks about that summer. The worries and burdens she carries over being the mother to a half blood destined to die at the young age of 16, fall away and her eyes sparkle with so much love and joy._

 _Sometimes Percy feels like it's the only way he can ease her burdens and make her happy. The only thing worse than being destined to die at 16, is being the mother to a kid who's destined to die at 16._

 _His mom is about to launch into his personal favorite part of the story, the time where she, a mere mortal, totally showed up the Greek God of the Sea at surfing when something shifts._

 _Percy stiffens, his hand flying to his pocket and pulling out a pen, his eyes darting around the suddenly too quiet forest. Clouds slink out over the sun, casting an eerie silvery light in the forest. Sally, pauses, her own sixth sense flaring up, and she stands, clutching her hands to her chest. Percy follows quickly, his eyes darting back and forth, his muscles bunched and ready for action._

 _The Jackson family stand still for a small eternity, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But the clouds float away and bathe the forest in honey and a few birds meekly begin to sing. Percy scans the tree line surround them, before his eyes slide over to his mother. Her eyebrows are bunched and she looks just as confused and relieved as he feels when a twig snaps._

 _The pair jump and Percy uncaps Riptide, allowing the sword to burst forth, ready to slay when a small rabbit hops forward. Percy cracks a smile at his mom and opens his mouth to speak, in hopes to relieve the tension._

" _How ironic would it be for me to die of a heart attack via bunny instead of the Minotaur?" His mother just shakes her head, her lips twitching but her eyes do not leave the small rodent._

 _The son of Poseidon relaxes his shoulders just a fraction—just in time for a large wolf to spring from the foliage of the forest, starling the rabbit away and it's large paws to strike his mother and force her to the ground._

 _There's no time to act, adrenaline flooding his veins, the blood roaring in his ears and Percy swings his blade at the beast. Blood sprays and the wolf snarls, turning away from Percy's bleeding and fighting mother. With another arch, the golden blade slides like butter through the face of the soulless eyed monster. Enraged and blinded, there's no time to do more damage before the wolf is on him, it's fangs deep in his shoulder. The pain is unbearable and Percy can't see past the red haze of agony as the rabid animal continues to tear into his flesh, Riptide useless on ground several feet away from him._

 _Faintly Percy can hear his mother's scream of rage, the snarls of the wolf—and then there's a sickening snap and thud as something heavy hits the ground. The demigod scrambles blindly towards his sword, fingers brushing the hilt, desperate as the sounds of tearing flesh becomes louder and louder until its all Percy can hear, and will continue to hear for many years after in his nightmares._

 _His shoulder screams in protest and everything is sticky and there's the crunching of bones, oh god_ bones, _and with one final swing, led by the hands of his father, the wolf makes a startled gurgling sound as the cursed blade cleaves the head clean off. The body hits the ground, shaking the earth beneath Percy's feet, bringing him to his knees. A moment and then the head strikes the earth bringing down the last of Percy's world._

 _The dying demigod lays in the muddy blood on the forest floor, the blood of the wolf, his own, and the blood of his dearest mother. With a strangled cry, Percy's eyes shut, succumbing to the pain and the icy wave of darkness._

 **Here it is! The start of my Whispering Secrets rewrite! Sorry if it's a little awkward at times, I'm really trying to get back into the groove of writing fiction, so it may take me a few chapters for it to start flowing better.**

 **I am looking for a beta, and I'm not going to continue this past, like chapter 2, or any of my stories until I have a beta—this is the only solution I can come up with to get my butt back in gear.**

 **The qualifications are on my profile to apply for the beta position, I'm too lazy to type them out here.**

 **BUT LOOK GUYS I'M ACTUALLY DOING STUFF AND LET'S HOPE THAT THIS IS THE START OF MY TRIUMPHANT RETURN TO THE WORLD OF FANFICTION *fingers crossed***

 **Thanks for ya'lls patience and support through out the years,**

 **-E**


	2. Life

Do you ever just have those mornings where you wake up and something is just…off?

When Percy Jackson woke up that fateful morning, the air in his room in the wolf house reeked of death and magic. Without even opening his eyes, Percy knew it was going to be a weird day.

Never one to ignore his instincts, the son of Poseidon reached out his senses. The air tasted like those nasty hags, the Fates, all magic and sage and earth, it made the hair on his arms stand on end. His nose could barely get passed the stench of death permeating the air to the faint smell of someone burning bacon. Percy strained his ears, listening to the bustle and chaos happening in the kitchen that morning; three members of the pack were downstairs, chatting, fighting, and cooking poorly.

Percy frowned and opened his onyx eyes, his brow furrowed in confusion. Everyone downstairs was carrying on like normal, like they couldn't smell the decay crawling all over Percy's room and stinking up his flesh. His room was empty though, nothing was out of place, there was no one there, no bodies and no fates or gods. His eyes made contact with a little plushy dolphin, Sally.

With a slow and languid stretch, the raven-haired teen slipped from the warmth of his bed and his feet hit the cold hardwood floor. Cautiously, he made his way from his room, trying to shake off the feeling of well, off-ness thrumming under his skin, and to the stairs. With a less than graceful stumbling battle with the rickety old stairs, the demigod entered the kitchen.

There, three of his pack was fighting playfully. Well, Wren and Astrid were fighting over the last pancake and the latest copy of Vogue, fawning over the clothes and blaming each other for the drops of syrup on Kate Moss' face, while Sawyer continued to destroy the bacon.

"You bitch, stop trying to blame this on me, you're the fucking messiest eater in the entire pack—and we're werewolves for gods' sake—and I will not take the fall for you when Sloane finds out you got syrup on Kate Moss!" Astrid snapped at her teal haired best friend.

"I'm the messiest eater? Says the girl who got carried away and left bits of jack rabbit all over the front lawn!" Wren growled back, shoving her finger into Astrid's chest. The other girl scoffed, shoving Wren's finger away angrily.

"Wolf form is different—"

"The yard stank, like Percy over there, for months!" Astrid opened her mouth to respond, when Wren's words clicked. Both girls blinked and turned to Percy in the doorway.

"Have you been rolling in dead elk with Silas again, Perce?" Astrid asked, her nose scrunched up in disgust while Wren pinched her nose and waved her hand like a fan. Even normally stoic Sawyer turned over to look at the demigod, their nose giving the slightest of twitches.

"You reek," was all they said before turning back to the smoldering bacon in the pan.

Percy rolled his eyes. "Yeah I know, I woke up this morning and my room smelled like the time Astrid left that deer in the garage—" said raven-haired girl grumbled while Wren looked on smugly. Percy shuddered.

"Anyways, I just feel super off and smell like a corpse, so I'm gonna go for quick boarder patrol and then shower." The werewolf demigod made his way to the back kitchen door. Sawyer shrugged, their eyes never leaving the bacon,

"You should talk to Thorin." The girls chimed in with their agreement.

"Yeah, Perce, no one just wakes up smelling like death—"

"Unless Eden or someone put a dead animal in your room last night—"

"Yeah Eden would do that—"

"She totally would, that freak, Jesus who does that?"

"Um, pot meet kettle, need I remind you, W, of that Halloween two years ago—"

"That was Halloween—things should smell like death—"

"Um, like, hell no they shouldn't—"

Sawyer spoke up over the arguing girls.

"See Thorin. Bye, Perce."

Percy stepped outside, shaking his head in amusement, his dark eyes sparkling.

"And we'll talk with Eden when we see her!" Astrid called as he closed the door. They were something, and whatever it was it was definitely trouble. Amusing though.

Percy launched into his wolf form and began to race through the grey forest, putting on speed as he enjoyed the feeling of the moist spring air running through his fur and cleaning him of the scent of death.

God, as much as Percy missed the ocean sometimes, there was something else entirely about the feeling of the earth under his paws, the scent of pine and dirt that clung to raven fur like dew, and the crisp morning air of the Pacific Northwest stinging his eyes. Something that felt so inherently right.

The trees bled by, but the wolf was careful not to stray into fairy territory—or those good for nothing blood-sucking corpses. A low growl rumbled in his chest. He thought of poor Polly, a newer wolf whose turning was one of the more traumatic ones, and what was left of her mangled wolf form after those bastards went after her. They never found out who did it or why, the leaders of the closest vampire clans were entirely unforthcoming about who might've done it or why. Percy swore vengeance anyways, no one gets away with attacking his pack and gets away with it.

Scenting the air, the large black wolf caught wind of two members of his pack, probably just finishing up their own patrol. Percy was about to shift away from them, no use in having three wolves in one area when who knows what lurked else where, when something in the air shifted. Percy paused, lifting his large head and scenting the air—magic.

Percy sped up and headed toward his fellow wolves. As he neared, he recognized the scents of Thorin and one of the more seasoned wolves, Spike, and the dizzying smell of magic thickened until Percy swore he could not only see the magic shimmering, but that it stuck to his fur and weighed him down. The werewolf broke into the clearing, causing Spike to jerk up and look at him while Thorin proceeded to pace around a large boulder.

Spike nodded his head and Percy could see the magic clinging to his bleached white fur. The demigod glanced at the leader of his pack, Thorin to see the magic shimmering around him too.

"Percy." Thorin's deep voice rumbled in his mind. "Come take a look at this marking." Warily, the wolf made his way over to his alpha and the rock he was circling. The mark on the boulder stopped Percy in his tracks. It was a fresh mark, he noticed, and the magic seemed to permeate from the deep grooves.

A sickle.

Kronos.

As if reading his mind, Thorin nodded gravely. "Yes," his voice rasped. "Kronos." Deep, probing emerald eyes peered into Percy, extracting information and examining his soul. Percy resisted the urge to shudder.

"But what does it mean?" Percy couldn't help but ask, even though he knew Thorin probably didn't know anymore than he did. "The prophecy was stopped."

"The gods are not infallible." Spike murmured in his own accented rumble. His sharp blue eyes ran the length of Percy's wolf form. "One of the big three could've sired another." Percy knew it was true; the Big Three had a particularly hard time keeping it in their pants, even if the fate of the world depended on it.

Thorin nodded, seeing the wisdom in Spike's words, but something in his eyes said he didn't quite think that was it. "That is true. But then why here?" He lashed his tail in agitation. "In the heart of our territory?" His eyes fell back on Percy. "And why do you smell like death, Perseus? It is not the death of prey that clings to your fur, but the smell of decaying human flesh."

Something sparked in Percy's mind, but before he could grasp it, it disappeared.

The son of Poseidon shrugged, not knowing what else to do. "I woke up this morning and my room stank of magic and death." Spike looked at Percy in surprise and Thorin's brow pinched.

"I see." There was a pause. Then, "let us head back to the wolf house. I wish to see your room Perseus." The demigod in question just bowed his head in submission. Thorin tossed his head back and howled before charging off into the underbrush. Spike and Percy shared a split second look before howling and chasing after their alpha.

* * *

Percy watched Thorin poke about his room with growing restlessness. The smell wasn't nearly as strong as it had been that morning, but still, shimmering magic and the putrid smell of death clung to the walls like a bad tattoo. Percy's skin was crawling and he itched to jump in the shower, but Thorin had forbid it until he was sure that the water wouldn't wash away any clues.

Spike stood in the hall next to the demigod, his foot bouncing up and down and he looked about ready to bash Astrid and Wren's heads together. The two girls were still chattering nervously, shooting Percy and Thorin weird looks. They're nervousness only served to make their voices higher and their words faster. Eden, the blonde werewolf the two girls had managed to corner, hadn't put any dead animals in his room but she too was curious once Wren let it slip what was going on.

Even Sawyer was in the hallway, as still and as stoic as ever. Their eyes closed, waiting.

Soon the entire Lunar Pack would be crowding his hallway and making less than helpful comments about the smell that crawled over Percy's skin.

With a frustrated growl, Thorin turned to Percy, his eyes narrowed. The demigod in question just raised his hands in surrender.

"Nothing. There's absolutely nothing—except of course the stench." Their dark skinned alpha gnashed his teeth, his broad shoulders tense. He looked like he was ready to pounce. "Those blasted fates, playing mind games." He spat. Percy tried to look apologetic.

Spike snorted from behind his cigarette. The three girls shared looks. Sawyer did nothing.

"Perseus." Their leader snapped. "We're going to meet with Old Roy." The demigod resisted the urge to groan, but bowed in submission anyways. Thorin brushed passed the gawking on lookers while Percy trailed after him, his shoulders hunched and sullen.

The two werewolves made their way through the territory, passed the Lunar Stone, the Great Cedar, the Big House and some of the other buildings and land marks, until they reached the cozy caves that housed their resident "Medicine Man", Old Roy.

The air outside the cave smelled like sage and jasmine and wet earth. Large, colorful curtains shielded the inside from onlookers. Thorin paused and bowed to the large wolf skull that rested above the entrance, before slipping inside. Percy waited a breath, before stepping up to the skull and bowed, trying to ignore the chills crawling down his spine. Quickly, the young werewolf slid inside, his senses bombarded with all kinds of smells and the roar of silence. Silence was always violently loud in the cave and Percy made a point to visit as little as possible for that reason.

And the creepy skull.

But Percy did like Old Roy and their two assistants, Jinx the oracle and Alaska the empathy.

Old Roy's eyes were milky and kind, filled with wisdom reminiscent of his old teacher, Chiron. But despite his eyes and the crows feet that crinkled when he smiled, Old Roy didn't look a day older than 12. Their long raven hair was streaked with color and beads, and tied up in a high ponytail.

"Perseus, my pup, you smell of life." Even though Old Roy was technically blind, Percy knew they saw better than anyone else, they saw things purely and as things were intended. The old medicine man's words gave him a pause and he noticed Thorin was deep in thought as well.

The older wolf's kind smile grew a fraction and he gestured for Percy to sit.

"Forgive me, Link, but I don't understand. I reek of death." The demigod werewolf addressed their current link between the spirit world and their own. But the link merely smiled and turned to Thorin.

"You are troubled, young one." They placed a small hand on Thorin's forehead, smiling kindly. "Be at peace, my pup." Jinx left her place at Old Roy's side to pour the two visiting wolves tea.

"It is hard, old one." Thorin grumbled, but not unkindly. "To be at peace in times of trouble."

Old Roy only giggled and sipped from his tea. "It is even harder in times of war, young pup. You are alpha, you must keep your head on your shoulders." Thorin clenched his hands and Percy looked down into the contents of his cup, watching the specks swirl with secrets.

"We are at war, then?" The alpha's voice was tense and Percy felt worse.

"It would appear to be." The Link murmured. "Do not feel guilty, Perseus, fate has a funny way of making itself play out exactly the way it wants to." The son of Poseidon shifted uneasily in his seat.

"So one of the Big Three has sired another?" Percy asked, still not meeting the eyes of his pack leader or Roy's.

Old Roy let out a loud, bark of laughter and Jinx and Alaska joined them, their laughter tinkling like bells.

"Oh yes, the oak and the clown fish, but the dead do not stay dead, my pup, and neither do death's spawn." Percy frowned, unsure of how to interpret the Link's cryptic words. "They are not the only ones." Those unnerving milky eyes caught the onyx of Percy's and the demigod shuddered. "For the dead do not stay dead, bathed in moonlight, the tides turn."

Pieces of the puzzle were starting to put themselves together and Percy furrowed his brow deep in thought.

"The ocean roars to life in your veins, child." Thorin gasped and murmured softly, almost too quietly for Percy to hear,

"You smell of life—life!" He repeated the Link's words, light dawning in his eyes. Percy blanched, something clicking in his brain, what Thorin had said earlier about decaying human flesh and life. Blood roared in his ears. Percy shut his eyes and concentrated, focusing inward instead of outward. The steady and slightly elevated beat of his heart, the blood pumping in his veins, the hum of his skin, the dull and growing ache in his bones—

Old Roy nodded solemnly, though their eyes twinkled with something unrecognizable. "Yes, my boy. Life."

* * *

 **And that was chapter two. How did ya'll like the new OCs? Because I want Twilight to have absolutely no part in this version what so ever, I made up my own pack, they won't be nearly as involved in the story once Percy goes back to camp, but I will flesh them out and they will have guest appearances once and awhile.**

 **The pronouns were definitely the hardest part of the chapter, but to clarify, Sawyer goes by they/them pronouns and so does Old Roy, though their reasons for it is less about identifying as a gender and more with being the "Link" between the spirit world and mortal world—they're like above gender or something. Same with Jinx and Alaska though they're ok with she/her pronouns too.**

 **I hope you guys enjoyed it and are liking this new take on my baby Whispering Secrets.**

 **(Ya'll should let me know if you have any favorites so far wink wink nudge nudge)**

 **(Also Jurassic World anyone? A warning, just expect much Zach and Gray brother cuteness and angsty PTSD family-ness from the boys and Owen and Claire (and Blue?))**

 **Also I'm still looking for a beta, so hmu, guidelines are on my profile.**

 **Much love,**

 **Emma**


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